“No, it’s fine. Maybe I need to talk about it. Maybe it’s time,” I whisper.
“When I was younger, my mother remarried. My stepfather wasn’t the greatest man. I never got on with him, but he was good to my mom, so it didn’t matter. He moved into our home with his son. The son, Jarrod, was five years older than me and… he creeped me out.”
“What do you mean?” he asks after I pause for too long.
“He, um, he would make an effort to accidentally walk in on me while I was showering or changing. That’s how it started. Then, later, it escalated to him making blatant sexual advances toward me. I kept saying no. I thought I was making it as clear as day that I didn’t want anything like that, but he wouldn’t stop.”
Simon growls, a low, dangerous sound of disapproval.
“One day, he really pushed too far, and I got so angry I screamed at him. I was scared. I was young. I didn’t really know how to handle it. Anyway, he backed off, but I still went to talk to my stepfather for help. But he brushed it off. he made it soundlike I was overreacting and being a dramatic girl. My mother shared his point of view. I think it was easier to make light of it than to deal with it. It hurt a lot to not have support from the people I called family.”
“What happened after that?” Simon asks gruffly. “Did your stepbrother stop?”
“No. Because there were no consequences, he tried harder until one day I told him that if he ever tried to touch me again, I would go to the police. So, he stopped.”
“That’s good, well done. That was very brave of you,” he says.
“Unfortunately, that’s not where the story ends,” I sigh. “My stepbrother was furious. I didn’t know it, but he set up a hidden video camera in my room. He sent naked photos of me to everyone in the town we lived in. Everyone. People got the wrong idea about me. Guys started hitting on me, thinking I was easy and that they could get what they wanted from me. It wouldn’t stop. It got worse and worse, and still no one stood up for me. My stepbrother’s friends were the worst. They must have known what he did, but they still took advantage of the situation and hounded me. The guys in that town treated me like I was a toy, coming on so strong that it terrified me. So I left before anything worse could happen because I felt in danger. Like someone was going to take it too far. I didn’t feel like I had any other choice.”
Simon is deathly quiet at the end of my story, and for a moment, I wonder if he had been listening. I glance across at his face, and it’s so dangerously dark from anger that it looks as though he’s struggling to control himself.
“Simon?” I whisper nervously. “It was a long time ago.”
“What is your stepbrother’s name?” he asks, his voice tight.
“It was a really long time ago, and I haven’t spoken a word to him or my stepfather since the day I left. They are in the past. They don’t matter anymore,” I tell him.
“Of course it matters. He should never be allowed to get away with what he did to you!” Simon growls.
I reach over and take his hand, shaking my head. Simon looks down in surprise at my hand on his, my fingers threaded through his.
“In time, I will forget they even exist,” I smile. “I made a new life for myself in the city. They really mean nothing to me now,” I reassure him.
He sighs and places his other hand over both of our hands.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Blair. You never deserved that. I will never let anything like that happen to you again.” He reaches over and pulls my beach chair closer to his and wraps his arm around me.
I smile and lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, and we watch the stars in peaceful silence. I feel lighter after sharing my story. Lighter because he didn’t judge me, and he gave me a safe place to speak. I can leave all of that in the past. I can forget all about it. I hope. I hope that one day I won’t even remember my stepbrother’s name.